


Foot Loose

by StarkRogers



Series: The Foot Loose Series [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Foot Fetish, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkRogers/pseuds/StarkRogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Copyright: This is an original work of fiction. Sherlock Holmes is public domain, making this piece of work legally mine. You may not reproduce or publish this work on any site or in any journal or any other form of media without my permission. </p><p> </p><p>A foot massage leads to more, and Watson can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foot Loose

"Holmes, honestly. My feet have not been in such pain in years. This case was completely ridiculous. There was no need for us to stake out the house for twelve hours! Lestrade could have handled it, honestly…" I sank back up to my nose in the hot water of the bath, kneading my fingers into the arches of my feet, groaning as the muscles continued to try and knot up. I had managed to save my injured leg from pain by leaning primarily on my good leg, but this had the unfortunate side effect of doubly-stressing my foot. The prompt disagreements said foot was now having with me were the sources of my pain, and I clenched my teeth, firmly set upon grinding away the cramps coursing through the arch and toes. 

So intent must I have been upon this task that I did not hear Holmes walk around the screen providing modesty to the tub. My eyes were closed as I pressed the arch of my foot against the top rim of the tub, rubbing it against cold metal in an effort to untie the tendons. Imagine my surprise then, if you will, when I felt upon my skin the thin, delicate fingers of my fellow lodger. I started in my bath, throwing myself upwards to look at Holmes incredulously whilst sucking my foot back under the hot water.

"What the deuce has gotten into you, Holmes? Can a man not take a bath in privacy anymore?" My reply was angered, but more so out of embarrassment and a loss of personal dignity than any offense at my loft mate. For his part, Holmes simply gave a quiet chuckle, and pulled a nearby wooden stool over to sit upon. 

"Now now Watson, no need to be impractical. Give me your foot. I posses, among many other skills, a knowledge of anatomy that you have previously called "unsympathetic". However I believe it is enough for me to know how to alleviate a foot cramp." His reply was wry, and though I glared at him for several more moments, he did not budge. With a sigh I lifted my foot back out of the water, and he took it back in his hands. I tried to focus my attentions elsewhere: the quiet lapping of the water, the cool prick of air against my wet skin. The gentle caress of his hands against the arch of my foot, the heel, each toe. Wait! I cried out to my mind to think elsewhere, of anything else but those long fingers, the pads of this thumbs pressing in upward strokes, the tension leaving each second. 

I sighed, sinking lower into the water, feeling a shiver rise up my spine as those talented hands found a stubborn knot and eased it into submission. I bit my bottom lip and arched my back slightly. I decided to throw caution to the wind, relishing in the sensations at last, letting them wash over me like the bathwater. I was thus sufficiently sedated, nearly dozing when heat enveloped my large toe. So sedate was I that my first response was to sigh enormously and shudder, before finaly drawing open an eye with difficulty and looking down at Holmes. 

"What… Holmes, what are you doing now?" I inquired, and found myself looking at Holmes sucking on my toe as if it were a frozen treat. His didn't answer and his ministrations didn't pause, his eyes opening for a moment to gaze upon me. I found myself whimpering at the pressure of his soft, wet tongue, the heat of his mouth traveling up my leg and - most embarrassingly - straight to my groin. Small gasps broke from my lips as he continued, letting the large toe go to suckle on the smaller ones. I laid my head back once more, eyes pressed shut as the man I called a roommate performed glorious things to my foot. Things I had never even known could create such pleasure - or drive me mad. 

Holmes' tongue dove down my arch, sweeping up the cold, condensing water and leaving behind a fresh path of chilled flesh. My toes curled as he nibbled along the outer edge, and my hands gripped the edge of the tub so hard my knuckles turned white. All the while he was rewarded by the cries of joy rushing out of my chest and throat before I even had a chance to second-guess them. He sucked on the arch with an open mouth, pressing his tongue against it until I finally cried out.

"Oh God Holmes, have mercy!" I looked down at him again and found his gaze waiting to greet mine, his eyes deepened with a hunger I had never seen before. I could only watch as he gently lifted my ankle off the rim of the tub, brushing his lips against the inside of my ankle, sending waves of pleasure like lightning up my leg. "Oh God," I whimpered once more, laying my head back again. He began licking and sucking his way up my leg, reaching my calf at an agonizingly slow pace, being stopped there only be the presence of the bath water. I again gave out an involuntary cry as he stopped. The smile on his face was lopsided, and he spoke in between kissing my knee cap and licking the soft skin in the bend.

"I will need to remove you from the bath," he said in a husky voice as my eyes rolled back in my head. No question, no request. He simply informed me of what he was going to do, and my Christian soul be damned but I had no arguments against him. He held up a towel for me as I stood, and I wrapped it around my waist in a weak attempt to preserve any dignity I had left after spending the last few minutes writhing in a tub like some kind of harlot; and merely from the touch of his hands and mouth against my foot! Holmes was a mad man, and I was his all-to-willing puppet.


End file.
